Homecoming
by KyinHI
Summary: Smut-spec. Is that a thing? It is now. In my mind this takes place post 7x01, once they are done solving things and following procedure. One-shot.


**Well, hi there. Long time, no write. On with the words.**

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><p>His fingertips are soft, creeping along her sides, transferring secret whispers against her skin; they speak of life changing secrets, life-affirming secrets. Secrets that he's yet to share. He's here with her, it's no longer a heartbreaking dream, and yet… why does it all feel so wrong?<p>

"Kate," he says, a soft hush behind her ear. "Come to bed."

She turns, faces him and runs a palm across his cheek, lets her thumb smooth along the angle of his jaw; he's thinner now, the lines sharper, and wrinkles deeper, the contrast between how she remembers him, and how he is now, only heightened by the lengthening shadows that stretch across the bedroom in the early evening light. He reminds her somewhat of the man she met on a rooftop bar. Only older. Burdened. Without the carefree arrogance and boyish charm. Only two months, and yet, it feels like he's been gone a lifetime.

_Only. _Each day since she arrived at the crash site has felt like a year, each lost hour, a maddening, desperate eternity. And now that he's back, it's like time is slipping away from her, racing ahead without her agreement or consent.

"Castle," she says, struggling to keep the husk out of her voice. "Where have you been?"

A flash clouds his eyes, a hint of despair, followed by a glimpse of anger, and culminating in stubborn resolve. It's gone as fast as she recognizes it and is replaced with a deep sadness.

"Please," he says. "I can't. Not yet. Pease Kate, just come to bed."

And when he looks at her like that, so lost, adrift and searching for understanding, she's helpless to refuse. She lets him lead her to the edge of the bed and sinks to the mattress in relief, her bones weary, muscles aching. Since she got the call three days ago, she's been running on adrenaline and caffeine. Even through the thick fabric of her jeans, the sheets are cool on the backs of her thighs, and she shivers as she settles on the edge of the bed, not sure if it's the temperature in the room or the chill that's been her constant companion since he's returned. Nothing makes any sense. His silence regarding his whereabouts unnerves her. It's not at all how she had expected their reunion would play out. In her minds eye, their coming together had been shrouded in burnished reds and gold tones, warmth... But the things unsaid, the unanswered questions are preventing from it from fully materializing.

"We will be talking about this," she warns him, letting her attention travel up his body and catching his eye. She tracks his movements with her gaze, struggling to pinpoint what's off about him, but he closes the distance, and crawls in behind her, settling against the headboard. He nods in understanding, but remains quiet, instead patting the mattress and beckoning her to be encircled by his arms. She sinks gratefully into his embrace, snug between the vee of his thighs, and for the moment, she doesn't care that he's holding back, she's simply grateful that he's alive.

"I know," he murmurs into her hair. "I know. But right now, I just..."

His baritone rumbles through her body, sending shivers down her spine. God, she's missed this. His scent surrounds her, woodsy, vanilla and musk. She inhales deeply, filling her senses with him. God. She's missed that too; his pillow was a poor substitution. She doesn't care that he can't - _won't_ - talk about it. All she cares about is that he's home, that he's safe.

"I missed you," she whispers. "So much, Castle."

He tightens his arms around her, presses a kiss to her crown, but remains steadfastly silent concerning his whereabouts and what he was doing.

She wishes he would talk to her, unburden himself, but whatever happened to him out there, whatever he's been through, or got himself into, he's not ready to share.

"You have to trust me," he'd said. And she does. She really does. It's just… she doesn't know how to make it better. How to make _him_ better, and close the distance that's come between them in his absence. How do they go forward from here?

"It'll never be the same," he says, sullen, needy, and as though reading her mind. Some things never change. "Will it?"

She turns her head to him then, watches as the tears well up in his eyes, feels a matching sting burn in her own.

"No," she says honestly, because if she can't be honest with him after everything they've been through, then what do they really have left? "It won't."

His face falls and her heart clenches. She can give him honest, but she can also soften the blow. Whatever he's holding back, he has his reasons. She doesn't doubt his love for her, nor hers for him.

"But maybe…"

Hope surges in his face and she can feel the first inkling of a smile tickle the corners of her mouth. She stretches upwards, traces the upturn of his lips with the pads of her fingers and smiles. She presses a kiss there, two for good measure, and savors the thrill of his returning touch as his hands trace deftly up and down her torso.

"Maybe," she whispers against his mouth, "we can start over. Come out of this stronger?"

She twists her body, angling herself on top of him, letting his body hold her weight, reveling in the feel of his arms securing her in place, fingers pressing into her flesh, protective and possessive. He nods, slowly, almost trance-like.

"Never the same," she affirms, nuzzling into his neck, nipping at his jaw, letting her teeth sink gently into an ear lobe. "But still _good_. We're so good together, Rick."

"We're good?" he asks. And she nods, smiling, in agreement, truly feeling it for the first time since he's been back.

"Yeah, babe. We're good."

He surges upwards, cupping her head and angling her lips to his own, devours her mouth, like a man ravenous, thirsty, desperate. Her body responds in kind, heating with an internal fire, blazing hot and just as frenzied.

"Too many clothes," she manages to mumble between frantic kisses, sitting up, wiggling to remove her shirt, helping him with his when she's free of the constricting material.

He stills then, time slows, and he reaches up, tracing her scar, laying his hands upon the now healed bullet wound on her chest. It reminds her of their first night together, and tentatively, she reaches out, mirroring his actions and covering the marred skin that he, now, also sports.

"Quite the pair," he says quietly, sobering. "Kate, I…"

Her heart stutters, and she draws in a quick breath. He's willing to talk, she can see it in his eyes, feel in in the way his palms are clammy against her skin. And yet… now that he's obviously ready to share, she finds that all urgency is gone and instead she's overcome by a fierce sense of protectiveness. It can wait. It'll be easier in the light of day. She places a finger to his lips. "Shh, not now. Later, okay?"

His face tempers, eyes clear and soften. And that's better. He's smiling; they'll talk later. For now, she knows exactly what to say.

"Please, Castle. I just want you."

She reaches behind her back and, with a flick of her fingers, releases her bra. The lacy garment hits his chest with a _thwap_, and it has the desired effect. His eyes bug out, taking on a dark gleam, and his hands spring into action, cupping her breasts and kneading her heated flesh. Her nipples harden to tight peaks, tingling and burning with desire, sending a rush of moisture to her center. He weaves his arms around her back, drawing her down to his body, and his long, muscular length, flattening her breasts to his chest. She angles her head, crashing an impassioned kiss to his mouth; it makes her dizzy. God, she missed this _so much._

She slides her tongue alongside his, chasing it, her hands fisting in his hair. She settles her weight on his hips, can feel his arousal against her pelvis, and she pushes upwards greedily, grinding herself atop his thighs and eliciting a throaty moan from him.

"Pants…" she manages to get out. "Gotta lose the pants, babe."

She feels him grin against her mouth, and the air rushes out of her lungs as he flips her with surprising grace and works on doing exactly that, his hands deftly undoing the button of her jeans and lowering the zipper. She lifts her hips and aides him in sliding the offending material down her legs. He deposits his own pants alongside hers in a messy heap on the floor and removes his boxers, his erection springing to life. Her mouth goes dry and she bites her lip, quickly removing her panties.

"Get over here, Castle."

"Yes, ma'am," he replies, the first true grin she's seen out of him since he's been home. It lights up his entire face and the predatory gleam in his eye takes her breath away in anticipation.

He swoops down, his hardness brushing against her stomach as he sinks against her. She moans, reaching between them, and wraps her hand around his length; Castle hisses against her ear and it sends a thrill down her spine. She strokes him several times, urging him toward her. His tongue plunges into her mouth, stroking quickly, and his hand snakes between them, finding her center, and drawing a startled gasp from her throat.

"God," he pants, "So wet." He circles her clit, presses down, holds and circles again. Her thighs quiver, tense up and relax. She's missed him so much. "Missed you," he growls, reading her mind. Circle. Hold. Repeat. "So much."

It's too much. It's not enough. On a ragged breath, she lets out a sob. "Castle, please… Don't make me wait."

He's hard, throbbing between her fingers, and she elevates her hips upward, wanting him inside of her. "No more waiting," she cries as he shifts against her, his cock nudging her opening. She circles his tip, spreading their combined moisture and guides him inside, letting out a contented sigh as finally, _finally, _he fills her again. He comes to rest, stretching her, it's been so long, too long, and he stares at her with a dash of wonder quirking at the sides of his mouth.

"No more waiting," he confirms, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, pulling back before pressing back in, setting a languid pace. He rolls his hips slowly, a tremble rumbling through his body as he tries to hold himself back.

Kate's having none of that though. She's missed his power, his strength, and there'll be time for lovemaking later. Right now, she needs to feel him, all of him. She wants to consume him, devour him; she wants to be ravaged. Her hands clamber over his body, clutching at his back as he strokes smoothly into her. She lifts her hips against his, her teeth sinking into his clavicle. He jerks and she grins, having achieved the desired effect.

"Harder," she breathes, demands, as he comes in for a kiss. He shoots her a lewd grin and snaps into action; it sends her thighs clenching and toes curling.

"Better hold on then," he growls, hips crashing forward quickly, plunging into her with short, sharp strokes. He feels powerful above her, in control, and it's exactly what she needs. His muscles ripple above her and she takes a moment to map out the newly revealed contours of his torso.

He grunts with the exertion, perspiration beading on his brow, and she cries out, fingers digging into his rear, urging him closer, ever closer, until she's unsure where he begins and she ends. No matter. Sweat clings to them, the air around them humid and damp, sultry; she hangs on for the ride and meets him thrust for thrust.

"Faster," she pants against his mouth. He bites at her lower lip before moving on, sucking and grazing with teeth, leaving his mark as he travels along the column on her neck. He grunts into her ear, and pleasure threads down her clammy spine. He slams his hips high into her, fast and hard; it's almost excruciating. It sends jolts of electricity all the way to her toes.

"Kate…" he pants. "God. Kate."

It's a tortured moan and it undoes her completely. She arches up to meet him and he grasps her hips, pulls her close and wraps his arms around her back, hands greedily demanding more of her, and his mouth finding her shoulder as her head falls back in delight.

"So… fucking… good," he gasps.

And that's what does it for her. As he begins to lose control, she feels an intense tingle burgeon in her belly, spread over her skin, center low in her belly and twist up, until she's a tensioned spring, ready to snap. She writhes, moans, and gasps with pleasure verging on pain. A long string of expletives that would make a sailor blush leaves her mouth, as above her, Castle reaches his breaking point.

"Kate… I can't, I'm gonna…"

"Let go, Rick," she manages to gasp, before falling into the abyss. He moans, and with one final thrust that makes her thighs tense up and clench him tight to her body, he tumbles after her. He cries out, his voice a growl of possessiveness, laced with pleasure.

It's too much, and still not enough. He slips out of her, all the way, and enters her again, slowly bringing them both down from their abrupt and feverish high. She shivers as they cool off, the air conditioning raising gooseflesh on her skin as the remaining trembles and quivers settle down.

She lays her head down and he lets his weight sink onto her, and finally_, finally_, she feels light. She chuckles at the irony, and he cocks his head to the side, hair tousled, adorably attentive, and eying her curiously.

"What's so funny, Beckett?"

She shakes her head, dismissing an explanation. He doesn't need to hear about the long tortured months without him, her fruitless search. That can come later. Instead, she wraps her arms around his neck and brings him in for a long, slow kiss. There's only one thing that he needs to know.

"I never questioned us" she replies, peppering his face with gentling kisses. "Know that, Castle. I never questioned us."

He rolls them over, pulling the blanket with him, cocooning them in its warmth and resting his hand over her heart. She nestles back into the cave of his body and lets the heat of their fused skin soothe her aching muscles, and, more importantly, her aching heart. She listens to the regular rhythm of his breath, toys with the fuzzy hairs on his forearm and is finally, _finally, _about to drift off to a contented sleep when she hears his voice in the subdued light of the city.

"Kate?"

She smiles, his gravelly voice rumbling in her ear, a luxury she wasn't sure she'd ever get to cherish again.

"I never did tell you why I became a mystery writer."

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><p><strong>Avi - To the Unicorn Universe and back again. Thanks for the finger insertion ideas. You're a doll. A dirty, depraved doll. I love you. <strong>

**All mistakes are mine, flying betaless and fancy-free. Or something like that. Re: Jess!fic. I love her too. But she's found a new home and she's happy there. If the urge strikes me to write her in the Castle!Verse again, trust me, you will be the first to know. Perc is on hiatus right now.  
><strong>


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